


The Ways

by PlumTea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 22:26:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18678568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlumTea/pseuds/PlumTea
Summary: "He's got the looks, tall, and he's good at sports? You've got to be kidding me."





	The Ways

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sumaru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumaru/gifts).



> Kageyama's canonically hot now.

Maybe it’s just puberty. No, it’s definitely puberty. 

Tsukishima can’t help but notice Kageyama’s everything lately, and he hates it. He blames the boys in the hall studying Kageyama’s portrait in one of Yachi’s posters for the club, how they marveled in hushed tones about how unfair it was, how cool Kageyama looks, how he’s of all things, attractive. Imagine that, Mr. King of the Court, idiot who can’t pull above the 40% ranking in final exams, thinks that the only way to be competitive is to go faster, being  _ attractive. _ He probably just barely knows how to tie his shoelaces. What poor taste.

But now that Kageyama’s in front of him, he can almost see it. His hair is dark, shiny, and cut short, with no split ends. He has a curve to his eyes that some fashion magazines might call pretty. He’s on the tall side, he has a decent body from doing sports. There’s a small tuft of hair in his bangs that sweeps to the side, and it could easily be fixed with a comb, but something about it is dumb but endearing. Then he has blue eyes— who even has blue eyes in this country anyway?— that glimmer when a volleyball comes into view and darken when his hand comes down for a serve. 

Tsukishima bites into the pencil-topped eraser by the corner of his mouth. Alright, all things considering, Kageyama isn’t the worst choice out there. He’s not like the barbarians on the wrestling team that don’t use deodorant, and his hygiene is average. He brings onigiri from home every day, ones he says that he makes by hand, so he has some experience in the kitchen. He isn’t a lecherous creep to girls, and isn’t rowdy around the school.

This bar is so low.

Kageyama is talking now, probably something stupid. Tsukishima isn’t listening. 

Alright, how about volleyball, the one thing Kageyama is actually good at. 

A thought doesn’t stay in his brain for more than two seconds, but he can memorize volleyball strategies with ease. He has the determination to stay on the court, play harder than he can manage, and go forward. He’s gone from being a stubborn king to adapting to the rest of Karasuno. If he tries, really tries, it’s possible he could go pro one day. Maybe he’ll end up being on TV, with the cameras zooming in on his face. That’s something Tsukishima could see, years down the line.

“Tsukishima.”

He looks at the sound of his name, seeing Kageyama looking sourly, the kind of curdle on his expression he gets when he wants to say something but doesn’t know the words. 

“What is it, your majesty?”

“I still don’t get the homework.”

The universe knows that Kageyama’s brain is no larger than a shriveled bean. If he really is going to go pro one day, then he’ll have to work on fixing that. If he can’t pass basic history homework, then it’s hopeless. Tsukishima and Yachi won’t always be there to hold his hand, but he’s gripping to their fingers tightly in the meantime.

It’s like finding a puppy in a box. A dumb, sharp-eyed, pathetic puppy. 

“There’s a couple of times imperial rule was threatened over the course of history. One is the overturn of the Heian courts, which we covered last week. Then is…”

“Nobunaga, right? From the Muramasa period.”

Tsukishima inhales deeply. “The Muromachi period. You’re thinking of the Muromachi period. The muramasa is a cursed sword.”

Kageyama blinks down at his notes, squints at the furigana above the kanji, and goes, “Oh. Right.”

Maybe if Tsukishima duct-tapes his mouth shut, it’ll be fine. 


End file.
